


Potency

by LordAnnihla



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Canon Rewrite, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:01:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29550384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LordAnnihla/pseuds/LordAnnihla
Summary: Malavai Quinn is a man defined by his loyalty: his loyalty to the Empire, and his loyalty to Darth Baras.Ten years ago, Malavai defied the direct order from his commanding officer, turning a near defeat for the Empire into a stunning victory. His efforts were acknowledged with a court-martial and a decade-long grudge that has since overshadowed his career. Darth Baras intervened on his behalf—for reasons Malavai has never questioned or understood—and saw to it that he continued serving the Empire on the planet Balmorra. It was a debt that Malavai never thought he could repay.Until the day Darth Baras contacts his office to inform him that his newest apprentice is on her way to meet with him.Ashanat is a rising star among the Sith, only recently finished with her training on Korriban. She is the heir to an ancient pure-blooded lineage, a powerful warrior, and newly an enforcer for Darth Baras’s demands. Malavai’s service as her liaison is rewarded with an end to his decade-long exile on Balmorra and an immediate transfer aboard her starship, where his military career will take on a second life.“And there you will watch her and report everything she does to me.”
Relationships: Malavai Quinn/Female Sith Warrior
Comments: 7
Kudos: 16





	1. Balmorra, the Beginning: Part I

_“My apprentice will soon land in the Sobrik spaceport. You will act as her liaison, supplying her with the information and equipment needed to satisfy my demands. This burden is strictly classified. None outside your office can know of its existence. Do you understand, Lieutenant?”_

“I understand completely, my lord,” Malavai Quinn answered. He stood alone in his Sobrik office, where he was afforded some privacy but very little quiet. A steady parade of soldiers marched through the city streets. Artillery thundered somewhere in the distance. A squadron of Imperial assault shuttles cut through the space above the city. West to east, it sounded to him, likely in the direction of the Balmorran Arms Factory. It had never been quiet in Sobrik, but the sounds of battle drew nearer to the city with each passing week.

The cyan holoprojection of Darth Baras flickered as it studied him carefully.

Malavai often had the sense that the Sith Lord was searching for something in him—some weakness, perhaps. Imperial military operated in accordance with a strict schedule, suffering no delays, but Darth Baras operated on his own time. Everything waited on him. He studied the gaps between his words with academic interest, measured his silences with ruthless efficiency. Baras had once intervened on his behalf, but Malavai never let himself believe they were in an alliance. He was useful to him. Somehow.

Baras gave away nothing of his consideration. He wore an ornate mask that fully covered his face, embossed with a single, unblinking eye and a stern line for a mouth. Malavai had once seen the face underneath the mask. It was near the end of the war, when Baras allowed himself to be interviewed during the peace talks on Alderaan. His severe countenance was juxtaposed with the burning Jedi Temple as it was broadcast across the HoloNet. But after ten years in his service, Malavai now saw only the mask. It was harder to remember the expression underneath. _“Your secondary objective,”_ Baras continued after a lengthy silence, _“will be to continue monitoring the investigator sent by the Jedi Council. The arrival of my apprentice has changed nothing. You will observe this investigator, but you will not interfere. Do nothing to alert her of your surveillance.”_

“Yes, my lord.”

_“How much progress has she made since we last spoke?”_

Malavai consulted the computer terminal. A Jedi starship entering the Balmorran stratosphere had not gone unnoticed, but it was lost somewhere along its descent. Captain Rigel of the Imperial Conquest Consolidation Corps was more concerned with the resistance than with a single Jedi, acting under the misguided belief that she would soon be drawn to the frontlines. The error allowed him to work discreetly. He’d located her earlier that morning as she passed through a resistance-controlled outpost in the Sundari Flatlands. Planting the tracking device on her involved a hacked guard droid, a stolen tracking device, and a false alarm. He was still looking for the landing pad where she’d left her starship.

His mother once told him that he should’ve been placed in Imperial Intelligence. He disagreed, but he saw her point.

“Very little,” Malavai answered as he observed her coordinates, updated minute-by-minute. “Her coordinates place her in the vicinity of the Balmorran Arms Factory. The resistance recently took control of the factory and made it their headquarters. Our forces have surrounded the factory on all sides. She will be unable to travel far without encountering our soldiers.” He turned his attention to the holoprojection. “She has twice attempted to contact a satellite control tower in the Markaran Plains using a Republic frequency. I have intercepted both transmissions. The last attempt was fifty-three—” he glanced at the chrono integrated in his comlink, “no, fifty-four standard minutes ago.”

_“Of what value would the tower be to this investigator, Lieutenant?”_

“The satellite control tower stores a wealth of data going back to the war, my lord. Its systems are still functional, to my knowledge, and we’ve been successful in preventing it from transmitting data off-planet. That is … the extent of our success. The tower is completely overrun by droids.”

Baras crossed his arms thoughtfully over his wide chest. _“Yes,”_ he mused thoughtfully. _“This investigator could pry the evidence she seeks from the tower’s systems, harvesting it to prove his suspicions to the Jedi Council. How dangerous are the forces around this tower?”_

 _His._ He said _his_ suspicions.

Malavai dismissed his curiosity as quickly as it had appeared. Baras never shared more than he believed his assets needed to know. This was not the first mission he’d undertaken without full knowledge of its circumstances, and it likely would not be the last. “It is a death trap of mechanical security, my lord,” he explained. “The guard droids control the call-back stations on the satellite tower grounds. They use these systems to disrupt our communications, making it impossible to coordinate our forces in the region. The tower itself is swarming with droids, but beyond that, my information has been limited by our lack of progress.”

_“Indeed. My apprentice could surely face her doom within this tower. Is it possible to destroy it?”_

“Destroy it … entirely, my lord?” Malavai questioned. His mind raced with the implications. “It would be possible to damage the tower’s systems, eliminating its only store of data.” He suspected the local military would appreciate the destruction—ending the droids’ sabotage and relentless gunfire—but Baras wasn’t taking an interest in the ongoing conflict. Something else had drawn him to Balmorra. “A data spike could overload the mainframe and render the systems inoperable. It would be months before the resistance discovered—”

 _“There is no need for such subtlety, Lieutenant,”_ Baras interrupted. _“Not this time. My apprentice will assault this tower and rain death and destruction upon the machinery that dares to trespass on its grounds. Your commanding officers may know that you were acting on my orders should they question the devastation.”_

“The Jedi investigator might suspect her investigation has been discovered when she learns of the assault, my lord.”

 _“A smoking husk of a tower at the center of armed conflict is hardly noteworthy. But if she appears suspicious, then you will alert me immediately. Ahh.”_ The holoprojection turned at the waist, inspecting something unseen to his right. _“My apprentice has at last landed in the Sobrik spaceport. She will soon be a guest in your office. You will appraise her of the situation on Balmorra and see that she is fully prepared for her assault on the tower. Contact me before she departs. I will want to discuss the details of her mission with her.”_

“Yes, my lord,” Malavai agreed, his thoughts already turned towards the logistics of the mission. Military-grade explosives with a blast radius considerable enough to ensure total destruction of the tower systems. A remote detonation would be necessary. If the apprentice had already landed in the spaceport, then he had little time to prepare. “I will see to it at once.”

 _“See that you do, Lieutenant,”_ Baras replied, and ended the holocall.

* * *

The office door slid open and hazy sunshine spilled onto the floor, throwing a harsh glare across the nearby wall. Malavai rose from his terminal. He expected to find the Sith apprentice at the entrance, but it was only a junior officer, looking exceedingly nervous as he stood at attention. The deafening screech of a walker patrolling the street flooded into the office around him, its massive steps causing the floor to tremble underneath their feet. Malavai ignored the noise and gestured for the man to fully enter. “Report, Corporal,” he commanded.

Corporal Jillins advanced into the office with the caution of a lone soldier stranded in enemy territory. He appeared to be holding in his breath as he approached Malavai and saluted him, his eyes fixed resolutely on the terminal behind him. “Sir, yes, sir. Um.” In the eight months since Jillins transferred to Balmorra, he’d never once managed to look Malavai in the eye. Today was no different. He nervously delivered his report to the terminal instead. “Sir, our—our forces found the landing pad, but they can’t get any closer. It’s in the Motor Pool, east of the Arms Factory. North-east, I mean. But it’s heavily guarded by resistance sympathizers. Sir.”

Malavai was familiar with the Motor Pool. Governor Melchiro had recently authorized a bounty, he recalled, describing the hostile forces as off-world sympathizers from Republic commando groups. Their snipers were responsible for three-hundred-and-four Imperial casualties and the destruction of at least fifty-one of their ships. This was an unwelcome complication, but hardly unexpected. Malavai had sent his soldiers to quietly surround the landing pad and hold position until he gave the order to advance. His troops were unaware of the Jedi or her mysterious investigation. He’d allowed them to believe they were cutting off an escape route for the enemy. “How many?”

Jillins blinked. “Uh, sir?”

“The numbers of the _enemy_ , Corporal,” Malavai repeated thinly. “How _many_?”

“I—I don’t—a few dozen, I think.”

“A few dozen _what_?”

“O-of the enemy, sir?”

Malavai was rapidly losing patience with the man. Jillins was the sort of pliable soldier who should have been left behind on Dromund Kaas, but someone somewhere saw fit to transfer him under _his_ leadership. The last ten years on Balmorra had been long, but the last eight months threatened to become even longer.

Jillins seemed to have realized his mistake. “Sir, they reported a few dozen alien mercenaries, technicians, repair droids, a-and siege droids. They appear to be in control of some of the anti-aircraft guns above the factory. Our soldiers sighted Balmorran shuttles unloading cargo and a Republic starship. Sir.”

Malavai endured his report with growing frustration. _A few dozen alien mercenaries. Some of the anti-aircraft guns._ He knew that if he pulled the most recent satellite imaging that he could simply _count_ the number of anti-aircraft guns positioned above the Arms Factory. These vague numbers were entirely useless to him, but the starship was promising. “What model starship?”

Jillins’ features went blank, and Malavai knew his answer before he spoke. “Sir, I didn’t—”

“You didn’t think to confirm the model of starship,” Malavai cut him off, his voice as sharp as cut glass. It was a statement of fact, not an accusation or a question, but his sudden anger made the young officer flinch. “You came here into my office with useless assumptions and unconfirmed reports and expect me to do _what_ with this, Corporal? Why are you here, wasting my time?”

There was a moment of impenetrable silence when neither of them spoke, and in the quiet, his office door slid open again.

Jillins opened his mouth—perhaps considering making the foolish mistake of actually answering the question—but he reconsidered at the last second. He stood at attention and fixed his gaze on the terminal. “Sir, I apologize, sir. It was the best I could do.”

Malavai glared at him. His apology was infuriating, and the man didn’t seem to understand the sheer burden of his incompetence. Malavai closed the distance between them in two brisk steps, heart beating hot and quick with his anger. “If that’s the best you can do, then you’re useless to me. I can shoot you dead with a clear conscience,” he warned, his voice dropping low and dangerous. “Is that what you want?”

Jillins didn’t blink, didn’t dare look away. “N-no, sir.”

Malavai turned away from him as his guests arrived. “Then _focus_ , Corporal,” he said in a cold, even tone. “Dismissed.”

Jillins remembered to salute him before he all but fled; one of his new guests gave a quiet, girlish snicker as he passed her.

The other—or the first of the two women—barely spared the corporal a glance. She marched into the office with the sort of confidence that only a Sith could possess, and the lightsaber hilt that hung from her belt was confirmation that she was the apprentice he’d been expecting. The apprentice was a young pure-blooded woman with bright yellow eyes and a piercing through the center of her lower lip, drawing the eye to her mouth. Her red-brown hair was tied back in an elaborate knot, and as she turned her head, dispassionately assessing the interior of the building, he noticed a long braid hanging straight down her back. Behind her followed a Rutian Twi’lek, wearing a pair of blasters and a smirk.

A slave, Malavai initially thought, but she was armed and wore no shock collar. If she wasn’t a slave, he wasn’t certain what she was supposed to be. She stared back at him with lavender eyes, her smirk falling to a scowl.

“Lieutenant Quinn?” the apprentice questioned in a rich, powerful voice. “My master informed me that you would be assisting me in a matter of great importance to him.”

“Yes, my lord.” Malavai realized almost immediately that he’d never been informed of her name, and he couldn’t be expected to ask. His deference saved him from having to reveal this glaring omission. “It is my privilege to be your liaison on Balmorra.”

Her yellow eyes studied him with something resembling interest. “Darth Baras says you’re capable. I hope he’s not mistaken.”

“I will earn that distinction, my lord,” Malavai replied carefully. He was long accustomed to being examined, measured, and assessed by his commanding officers, but it felt … different to be observed by the Sith. She was dangerous in a way that no ordinary person was dangerous. He masked his sudden emotional liability beneath a cool, professional veneer. “Lord Baras will discuss matters with you before you depart, but I am to acquaint you with the climate here on Balmorra.”

“Proceed, Lieutenant.”

“The Empire took control of Balmorra during the war and forced the previous administration into exile when they refused to accept Imperial rule, but a sizable resistance has remained in defiance of our lawful claim,” Malavai explained. “The conflict has recently renewed since the resistance claimed the Balmorran Arms Factory and turned it into their new headquarters. My superiors have reason to believe the Republic has been illegally supporting their continued rebellion.”

“And the Empire was so welcoming and everything,” the Twi’lek muttered. “Even rolled out the explosives and anti-aircraft artillery.”

Malavai expected the Sith apprentice to reprimand her, but the young woman merely glanced at her over her shoulder. Loose strands of her hair curled over her ears, framing her sharp cheekbones. “The Republic ceded its claim to Balmorra at the end of the war when their delegates signed the Treaty of Coruscant. They’ve had ten years to accept their loss, Vette,” she said. “This defiance cannot be tolerated.”

She was certainly well-informed. He had almost forgotten what that felt like.

“I agree, my lord,” Malavai admitted. “It is my dream to see our enemy vanquished.”

The apprentice smiled at him. “Then you must sleep poorly, considering the state of things.”

Her words were not an insult. They were … an indulgence. An understanding of some kind. Malavai suspected she’d overheard more than he’d thought or was quicker to grasp the situation than he’d expected. “No one on Balmorra rests easily, my lord,” he answered, before he continued with his report. “The regions to the west, east, and south are considered active warzones. Skirmishes have broken out to the west, near the Okara Droid Factory, and the resistance has been using stealth technology to ambush convoys to the south. Even the roads between outposts are considered dangerous, my lord.”

“I will bear that in mind.” She didn’t seem concerned. “Anything else, Lieutenant?”

“Not at the present. Allow me to open a secure line to Lord Baras.”

“Very well.”

Malavai turned his attention to the computer terminal and transmitted a holocall to Baras’s office in Kaas City. The Twi’lek scuffed the floor with her boots as she wandered around his office, picking up things from his shelves and setting them back down again. But the Sith apprentice waited behind him, still and quiet. He felt the weight of her gaze on him, and it made him keenly aware of everything he was doing with his hands.

The cyan holoprojection of Darth Baras appeared above them. His stolid mask regarded his apprentice with an approving nod, but his first words were meant for Malavai. _“I see you’ve convened with my apprentice. Very good, Lieutenant.”_ The flickering image gestured dismissively with one hand. _“Leave us.”_

Malavai was unsurprised by the dismissal. He bowed to the holoprojection. “Yes, my lord.”

It didn’t escape his notice how the apprentice watched him, her eyes following him as he left them alone in his office.


	2. Balmorra, the Beginning: Part II

Malavai had taken only three steps outside his office when someone contacted him by holo. He was still blinking the hazy sunshine out of his eyes as he answered. “Quinn. I’m outside my office.” It was as much a warning as an introduction. A speeder screamed down the street, and three off-duty officers were conversing near the intersection.

The cyan holoprojection of a slender woman of approximately thirty-five scowled at him. She stood with her hands on her hips, her glare framed by the blunt tresses of her blond bob. _“Lieutenant Quinn,”_ she greeted him in a tone that was too strained to be considered polite. _“My boss just left my office after dropping a high priority assignment on my lap. The requisition form he forwarded requires such high security clearance that he and I are literally the only two people on this planet who can even look at it. But a couple things stood out to me while I was reviewing my new task. Do you know what they were?”_

Malavai ignored the looks the officers sent in his direction. “This is not an appropriate conversation for the public, Ms. Lakkar.”

 _“The first was the time submitted,”_ Nadza continued as if he’d said nothing at all. _“It curiously demands fulfillment in the next thirty minutes despite being submitted less than an hour ago. And the second was the name at the bottom. Yours. What in the Emperor’s galaxy were you thinking, giving me a deadline like this? Why the sudden urgency?”_

“You know the answer to that is classified—”

 _“Then patch Classified into the call so_ they _can explain themselves!”_

Malavai inhaled deeply before he responded. The air held the faint metallic tang of ion emissions and dust. “You didn’t contact me to espouse more of your jokes,” he said, as a matter-of-fact. “Before you respond, consider that I am in public, and this conversation can be heard by any passersby.” He flicked an annoyed glance at the off-duty officers, who suddenly became preoccupied with something farther down the street.

The holoprojection lifted her chin. _“Consider yourself fortunate. My jokes are hilarious.”_

“Then I fail to see the dilemma. If you have time for humor, you have time for work.”

 _“I can do both. I’m half done with your demands as it is. It’ll be in your blasted shuttle in about thirty minutes.”_ Her humor disappeared as she continued, _“I have you on holo because I want an explanation—any explanation—from the man who just elbowed his way to the front of my queue. Do you know how many other officers are fighting for my attention right now? How many other missions are top priority? Thirty minutes, Quinn! Unless Sobrik is in immediate danger of being blasted out of the canyon, this is completely unacceptable!”_

Malavai privately sympathized with her frustration. His original assignment for this morning was to assist Captain Augatta in establishing an Imperial base near the Farnel Research Facility. One message from Darth Baras to his comlink— _dismiss everyone in your office_ —demanded a complete rearranging of his priorities. Now another lieutenant would assist Captain Augatta, and Malavai would spend the day liaising with Baras’s apprentice instead. It was an honor. An unexpected one. “You had as much warning as I had,” he admitted, which was truthful without revealing too much. “We do what we must, Ms. Lakkar.”

The flickering image huffed a sigh. _“Bring caf to the hangar bay and I’ll forgive you. Don’t forget the milk and sugar.”_

* * *

The transport shuttle was one of three being prepped for departure in the hangar bay. A second was being loaded with supplies for an outpost; a third sat open and empty at the center of a storm of droids and workers. Nadza and a droid waited beside the extended side ramp. She stood with her hands plunged deep into the pockets of her lab coat, her attention focused narrowly on the droid. Malavai glimpsed the pilot through the viewport as he approached. He was seated inside and running through last-minute system checks. It would not be long before the shuttle was ready to depart.

“You are forgiven,” Nadza declared as he handed her the caffa. “None for you?”

“No, it’s too late in the morning for me.” Malavai checked his comlink for messages and found none. His gaze roamed over the shuttle, scrutinizing the hull for faults and weaknesses, and settled on the droid. An ordinary pack sat on the duracrete floor at its feet. “Is this everything?”

Nadza nodded as she took a tentative sip. “Mm. Well done.” She sighed appreciatively and wiped away a smudge of lipstick with her thumb. “We’re always out of caf in the lab. It’s truly awful. Go ahead and load it.” She directed her last words to the droid, who carefully plucked the pack from the duracrete floor and followed the ramp into the shuttle. “That pack contains a single charge of thermite explosives—enough to level a small building—in a plasteel shell. The shell is really meant to keep the explosives from being jostled around during transit. Classified should be warned to be careful with the explosives. They’re deactivated, but they should still be handled with care.”

“There is no need to refer to—” _her_ , Malavai nearly said, but he caught himself, “—my operative as _Classified_.” He would never refer to one of the Sith as _his operative_ under any other circumstance, but it was imperative no one outside his office knew Darth Baras had business on Balmorra. The name never appeared on the requisition form he submitted.

“I think it keeps everything simple,” Nadza replied breezily. “The signal has quite the range on it. I’m going to presume that someone will be remaining behind in Sobrik to detonate the charge—no need to correct me, Lieutenant—but that someone should know there’s a bit of a delay. About three seconds. Classified needs to put ten or fifteen meters between themselves and the demolition site. More if possible. And not within direct line of sight. And wear eye protection. No one wants to lose an eye to a bit of shrapnel, yeah?”

“I’ll pass the warning along to my operative.”

“Good. Do that. What are you doing later?”

The question caught him off-guard, but his answer arrived in a message from Darth Baras. It was only a single word: _Status_.

“Working,” Malavai answered as he keyed in a response. _Shuttle prepared for departure at the hangar bay, my lord._

“That’s a shame. I’ll be at the cantina after my shift. Celebrating one year on Balmorra.”

“You’ve been here for three years.”

Nadza raised an eyebrow, her lips curling in a smile. “How did you remember that, Quinn?”

Malavai remembered when most of the soldiers, officers, and technicians stationed in Sobrik arrived. He’d been here longer than most of them. Ten years, one month, and four days by the Imperial calendar. He could almost count his exile down to the minute.

Balmorra was rather fitting for an exile. The Balmorran orbit was two-hundred-and-forty-two days longer than the Kaasi orbit, and the days were twenty-three hours longer. Time passed quickly in Imperial space. It was far slower on Balmorra. Their progress was stagnant, their position in the galaxy barely affected.

Another message from Baras arrived as the droid emerged from the shuttle. _My apprentice will come to you._

Malavai read the message before he responded. “You’re counting one year by local time,” he estimated, leaving her question unacknowledged. He keyed a short _yes, my lord_ and messaged it to Baras.

“One full revolution around this star should be celebrated with drinks at the cantina, and …” She paused. “I could use a man on my arm. You know, to ward off Harez.”

Malavai knew the name by reputation. Some scoundrel who worked in the cantina. He’d slept with the wife of one of his officers about six months ago, and the man spent nearly a week alternating between unseemly grief and excessive posturing. His continued employment at the cantina was clearly a distraction, but the military was limited in its jurisdiction over civilians. “Perhaps you should avoid the cantina in the near future, Ms. Lakkar.”

“Oh, well, you know, it’s nothing to worry about.” She tucked her hair behind her ear as she spoke, an embarrassed flush spreading across her cheeks. “I should get back to work. I have … a lot of work demanding my attention. So I should get back to it. I will let you … work.” She avoided his gaze as she turned to leave. “Cheers, and thanks for the caf.”

Malavai watched her departure. She left with the droid, the white tails of her lab coat and the metallic glint of its chassis disappearing into the teeming crowd. Her demeanor struck him as peculiar, but she was not incorrect. He had much more to do, and one final message from Baras warned him that his apprentice had been dispatched to the hangar bay.

The apprentice arrived within three minutes.

There was no mistaking her, even in the crowded hangar bay, even at a distance. Her red skin and black armor set her apart in a hangar full of human workers and maintenance droids. The blue-skinned Twi’lek trailed after her, her striped lekku twitching curiously. Malavai thought he saw the Twi’lek mouth something to the apprentice, and the young woman smirked and nodded in reply. He was baffled by their relationship. It was too familiar to be one of master-and-slave or even one of traditional service to the Sith.

Malavai bowed with respect as they approached the shuttle. “My lord. Everything is prepared for your assault.”

The apprentice would soon lay siege to a remote tower overrun with guard droids, but her demeanor was constrained. She looked, at most, mildly amused by the prospect. “Very good, Lieutenant. We have precious little time to waste.”

Malavai didn’t need to know the secret details of the mission to understand the urgency. He’d sensed it in Baras’s orders, and from his first message, everything else had developed swiftly. “The shuttle is ready to depart. I will give you instructions while you’re en route to your destination.”

“I assume my master gave you my holofrequency.”

“He did, my lord.”

“Then there is no need for further delay. Vette?”

Malavai observed as the apprentice stood to the side and permitted the other woman to march up the ramp ahead of her. It was a surprising show of deference from one of the Sith to an alien woman, though neither of them gave any indication that it was strange at all. It wasn’t his place to question the apprentice, so he said nothing as she climbed the ramp and ducked into the shuttle. He signaled the pilot to depart.

The pilot signaled in the affirmative. Malavai distanced himself as the ion engines came to life, and the floor around the shuttle began to clear. The shuttle doors swung shut as the side ramp collapsed into the cabin. It touched off from the duracrete floor and navigated steadily out of the hangar bay. In less than a minute, it was gone from view.

* * *

Malavai found his office cold and empty when he returned. The items on his shelves were misaligned. Someone had pulled the chair away from his computer terminal and angled it towards the holoprojector. He returned the chair to its appropriate place. His belongings on the shelves would have to wait. He contacted the apprentice’s holofrequency and stood at attention as he waited for her to answer.

She was quick to answer. A cyan rendering of her visage was projected before him. She held one arm above her head, holding onto an unseen bar overhead. Her armored body swayed with the lean of the shuttle as it transported them out to the Markaran Plains. _“Instruct me, Lieutenant,”_ she said by way of greeting.

“As you command, my lord,” Malavai replied. “You have at your disposal a charge of thermite explosives. Take these explosives and mount them to the main computer terminal inside the tower, then activate them. I will detonate the charge from here in my office. I’ve been informed you should ideally place yourself behind cover and no less than ten meters from the tower. There will be a slight delay of three seconds between the signal and the detonation.”

 _“Be prepared for the order.”_ She smiled; for a moment, she looked young and dangerous. _“This won’t take long.”_

Malavai nodded. “Yes, my lord.”

The apprentice ended the holocall from her end of the transmission.

Malavai returned to his terminal and examined the Jedi investigator’s coordinates. Her location still placed her inside the Balmorran Arms Factory. She had not tried again to contact the satellite control tower. Perhaps she had given up or—far more likely—she was momentarily distracted. It was too much of a risk to presume that she’d abandoned retrieving whatever evidence she sought from the tower until it was demolished. He ran a simulation of the apprentice’s siege of the tower, concluding it would take approximately two hours until demolition. Then her evidence would be out of her reach forever. Darth Baras would be pleased.

His comlink received a message, but this time it was not from Baras. It was from Jillins. _In position._

Malavai keyed a short response: _Hold and wait for my order._

Jillins sent an affirmative in less than a minute. It was clear he’d been waiting anxiously for some sort of response.

Malavai had more important things on his mind. He watched the coordinates on the viewscreen as they updated by the minute. The Jedi investigator remained in the factory, entirely unaware that she’d been cut off from her own starship. He suspected Baras intended for her investigation to fail and for her to be allowed to leave without confrontation. Malavai had been in service to Baras long enough to know that even her departure would only be permitted by his will. Her investigation would fail and she would suspect nothing … if everything went accordingly.

Another holocall was transmitted directly to his office—from Kaas City.

Baras again. Sooner than he’d anticipated.

Malavai stood as he answered. “My lord.”

The violent blue glare of the holoprojection bore down on him. _“I have had a revelation, Lieutenant Quinn,”_ he began, and his tone was strained with barely contained rage. His mood behind the unblinking mask was blacker than a storm. _“There is a man you must find. Ensign Durmat. I have reason to believe he is being detained by Republic forces at one of their outposts.”_

“Ensign Durmat,” Malavai repeated. “I will find this man immediately, my lord.”

 _“That is indeed the name. Do not mock me with your repetitions. I am in no mood,”_ Baras warned, and Malavai went cold and quiet. _“Ensign Durmat is a Republic soldier who will likely be questioned by the Jedi investigator. It is imperative that she cannot reach him. Find his location, and once my apprentice has completed her assault on the satellite communications tower, you will send his coordinates to her. She will handle the rest. You have until her assault is finished, Lieutenant.”_

Malavai stared at the mask. He had the sense that the words were spoken through clenched teeth. “Yes, my lord,” he breathed.

Baras terminated the call without another word.


	3. Balmorra, the Beginning: Part III

Malavai smothered his trepidation beneath cold detachment and faced the holoprojector. A yellow dot blinked on the viewscreen at the edge of his peripheral vision, a constant reminder that the Jedi investigator had still not left the Balmorran Arms Factory. Her considerable delay and silent communications had become its own mystery, but it was no longer of immediate interest. Baras’s priorities had shifted, and his shifted with them, dragged by the gravity of his demands.

The cyan holoprojection of Darth Baras appeared. _“What have you learned?”_

Malavai attempted to read the mood in his tone, but he could only estimate that it was less severe than an hour ago. “I have found Ensign Durmat, my lord. He is detained at the Republic Crater Outpost, where he awaits the Jedi investigator. The investigator is still located within the Arms Factory. Your apprentice has not yet finished her assault on the satellite control tower.” He had calculated the chance of her success, and the numbers, even for a Sith, were not reassuring. “I will send her the coordinates of the outpost with details of her new mission once she contacts me.”

_“You’re holding something back, Lieutenant.”_

Malavai had never considered himself easy to read, but Baras had no trouble sensing his thoughts. “My lord, I … calculated your apprentice’s chance of success in her mission.” He weighed his words carefully as he spoke. “The Republic outpost is located at the bottom of a crater, heavily guarded with soldiers and droids, and the prisoner is likely to be surveilled and under heavy guard. There is great potential for this mission to fail in any of its objectives.” Baras was clear from the start: the Jedi investigator was not to know her investigation had been discovered. The assault on the outpost risked exposing them. “I wouldn’t presume to question where you place your trust, my lord, but consider—”

_“What was the result?”_

“My lord?”

_“You calculated the chance of her success. What was the result?”_

Malavai stared at the faceless image. “Less than one percent, my lord.”

Baras, to his surprise, chuckled behind the unsmiling mask. _“Your concern for her is touching, Quinn. This is not the first time that I have sent Ashanat to her death.”_ There was no hint of concern in his amusement. _“She is the most promising of my supplicants, the one that I have chosen to enforce my will. And my will is that she delve into this cratered outpost and find Ensign Durmat. It is worth her life to me.”_

Malavai held onto her name in his mind: _Ashanat._ It sounded familiar, or some part of it was familiar to him, though he could not immediately place it. “Of course, my lord.” He was relieved of the need to say anything further when another holocall was transmitted to his office. The holofrequency belonged to the apprentice herself. It was too early for her assault to be finished. He suspected something had gone amiss. “Excuse me, my lord, but that is your apprentice on the other line. Allow me to patch her through.”

_“Very well, Lieutenant,”_ Baras acquiesced. _“I want to speak with her privately before you debrief her.”_

Malavai muted the transmission to Dromund Kaas and answered the holocall from the Markaran Plains. The holoprojection of Darth Baras vanished, and in the empty space appeared the apprentice. “My lord?”

The apprentice—Ashanat—stood with the holocomm in one hand and her deactivated lightsaber in the other. Her flickering image wore an annoyed frown. Loose strands of hair curled around her spiked temples. _“The charge is armed and ready for detonation, Lieutenant.”_

Malavai was surprised, but his datapad confirmed her early success. The coordinates for the thermite charge blinked at him from the satellite tower, armed and ready for detonation. It appeared he was mistaken. He mentally revised the chance of her success at the outpost. “So it is, my lord. I mark your progress and will detonate the charge once you are at a safe distance.” He looked at the flickering image over the datapad. “I have Lord Baras on holo for you.”

_“Good,”_ she said as she clipped her lightsaber to her belt. He thought he saw her wince. _“Let me speak to my master.”_

Malavai patched her line through to Baras, then muted himself. His office fell silent and dark around him, except for the artificial blue glare of his viewscreen and the single blinking dot that was the Jedi investigator. She had still not moved. He turned his attention to the datapad as he traced the apprentice’s location through her holotransmission. Malavai confirmed her location approximately twenty meters from the satellite control tower. She stood at the edge of a black hole of Imperial communications, the thermite charge—and the tower—at the center.

He tapped the key once, activating the charge of explosives.

There was no local indication of the demolition. No distant rumbling, no trembling underground. Nothing.

Malavai watched the impact on his datapad. The coordinates vanished, swallowed up by the black void. He waited breathlessly for some other indication of success—but there, slowly, Imperial communications lit up the region like stars. Malavai covered his mouth with his hand as he observed the lines and dots filling in the black, shooting across like meteors. He felt a knot between his shoulder blades loosen for the first time since that morning.

Baras summoned him to the holocall with a one-word sentence sent to his comlink: _Return_.

Malavai set aside the datapad and brushed out a wrinkle from his jacket. He exhaled slowly and unmuted himself. A pair of cyan holoprojections appeared above the terminal: master and apprentice, side by side, but entire systems apart. Ashanat stared past her holocomm, her lips shaped in a satisfied smirk. The first voice he heard did not belong to her, nor her master. It belonged to the young Twi’lek woman— _Vette_ , that was her name—somewhere nearby.

_“… so much smoke pouring out of the tower. The signal coming from it is completely dead, my lord.”_ She was laughing, triumphant. _“Do you think the military will let us take more of these explosives?”_

“Absolutely not,” Malavai cut in before he could stop himself.

Vette was undeterred. _“What if it’s for important Sith business?”_

_“My master is still on holo. We should not waste his time,”_ Ashanat warned, her voice low and gentle. Her next words were for Baras: _“The satellite control tower is now a smoking shell, Master. The mainframe is nothing more than twisted metal and melting wire.”_

She painted a vivid picture with her words. Baras seemed to agree. _“You have such a way with words, my apprentice. Lieutenant Quinn has the details of your next assignment. You will carry this out for me immediately.”_

“Ensign Durmat is currently detained at the Republic Crater Outpost on the eastern side of the Gorinth Canyon. I have made arrangements for the shuttle to take you to the Gorinth Outpost, the nearest landing site. Captain Neddis will make a speeder available to you upon your arrival,” Malavai explained. “You should know, my lord, the outpost sits on the edge of hostile territory. Resistance soldiers in the region have made use of stealth generators to ambush convoys and bring down entire patrols.”

_“This whole planet is hostile territory,”_ Vette grumbled.

_“The resistance is foolish if they think they can hold ground against a Sith,”_ Ashanat responded, apparently unconcerned.

_“And if the Sith in question is already hurt, my lord?”_

Malavai straightened. “Were you injured during the assault, my lord?”

Ashanat scowled at him. The holoprojection rendered her crimson skin a washed out blue, but it appeared to him that she was flushed with embarrassment. _“Only some minor bruising underneath my armor, Lieutenant. A droid survived my initial assault and shot me from behind. My armor deflected the blaster fire—”_

_“—but absorbed the impact,”_ Baras finished for her. His tone was amused, perhaps, or even mocking. _“I sensed you struggled the same against the guard droids in the tombs on Korriban. You feed on the suffering of your enemies, but droids do not suffer, they do not startle, they do not fear. Your attempts to draw strength from their torment made you weaker. You must learn to turn your focus inward when you fight these unthinking constructs, my apprentice. Draw strength from your own emotions.”_

_“Yes, Master.”_ Her words were tense with displeasure. _“The lingering pain of this embarrassing mistake will make me strong.”_

_“We will see if you’ve earned that confidence,”_ Baras replied. _“Lieutenant Quinn has informed me there will be more droids at the outpost.”_

Malavai tensed as the attention of master and apprentice turned to him through the holotransmission. Ashanat scowled, as if he were to blame for the affecting injury, but he suspected he was merely the recipient of her frustration. “Balmorra was considered one of the most important foundry planets in Republic space, my lord. Its primary exports are weapons and droids,” he explained diplomatically, resuming his debrief. “The resistance stole many droids from the factories during the war and has enlisted former engineers to their cause. You will find the outpost heavily guarded with resistance forces and guard droids. A speeder will carry you within sight of the outpost, but from there you will have to approach on foot.”

_“It is imperative the Jedi investigator is not alerted of your presence at the outpost,”_ Baras reminded her.

Malavai glanced at the single blinking dot on the viewscreen. “The Jedi investigator’s coordinates place her at the Balmorran Arms Factory, but I will alert you if she appears to be approaching the outpost. I assume you want to reach the ensign before she does, my lord.”

Ashanat’s scowl softened. _“Mind yourself, Lieutenant. You know what they say about curiosity.”_

Malavai realized he had overstepped his bounds. “I apologize, my lord. My inquiring nature often gets the better of me.” He bowed to her flickering image. “I won’t delay you any longer. Good luck on your mission.”

Baras terminated the holocall, and the images of master and apprentice—first master, then apprentice—vanished.

Malavai studied the blinking coordinates on the viewscreen. He hadn’t found evidence the Jedi investigator knew Ensign Durmat was in Republic custody. Baras was confident she would want to interrogate him, and he was not often wrong. The outpost would need to contact her—if they knew she was planetside—to arrange the interrogation. The Imperial Consolidation Conquest Corps had known about the outpost for some time, but if someone were to slice into their communications, they would likely be affiliated with Imperial Intelligence.

A sudden departure from the spaceport penetrated the muffled quiet of his office, ion engines rumbling like thunder. Malavai waited impatiently for the sound to fade, then keyed in Jillins’ holofrequency.

Jillins answered within three seconds. His flickering image jumped to attention. _“Sir! Are we ready to move, sir?”_

“No, hold position,” Malavai answered. “Is Breerdin still in Sobrik?”

Jillins blinked. _“I—I think so, sir.”_

“Good. I need to speak with him.” Malavai hesitated, then added, “And one more thing, Corporal. Fetch a medpac and bring it to my office.”

* * *

_“There is only one known holofrequency the Republic uses to communicate with the rest of their forces. Imperial Intelligence has been surveilling it for the last month. Much of their communication has been limited between the crater outpost and the Motor Pool. There is no guarantee that you’ll find whatever you’re hoping to find quickly.”_

Malavai examined the string of numbers displayed on his datapad. “Only the crater outpost and the Motor Pool?”

_“The outpost communicated with the Balmorran Arms Factory twice in the past month, but nothing more recent than a week ago,”_ Breerdin answered. He was a short, thin man whose brow wrinkled as he spoke. Malavai didn’t possess the security clearance to receive this information, but Baras quietly overruled Imperial Intelligence’s initial objections. Breerdin had been as forthcoming as he was ordered to be, but he seemed annoyed by the development. _“The Republic has not yet discovered we sliced into their communications channel. Imperial Intelligence appreciates your discretion in this matter, Lieutenant.”_

Malavai had no intention of disrupting their surveillance. “Of course,” he said, then ended the holocall.

It took a short amount of time to exploit the vulnerability in the Republic communications channel. Once his connection was secure, Malavai seated himself at his computer terminal and listened to the audio feed in silence. The transmissions were infrequent and unsurprising in their content: requests for supplies, directing reinforcements, reporting Imperial locations. But one call was placed from the outpost to a _Defender_ -class light corvette in the Motor Pool. It was answered by the ship droid. Malavai sat straighter in his seat, leaning over his terminal with one hand on his headset.

_“… got him in custody. Captain says the Jedi is supposed to question him, but we can’t get a hold of her. Is she there on her ship?”_

_“Master Mashallon has gone to the Balmorran Arms Factory on important business, I’m afraid.”_

_“Can you pass a message along to her, make sure she knows this kid is here waiting for her?”_

_“I would be delighted to pass along a message for you, Sergeant.”_

Malavai listened as the holocall was terminated. The stolen tracking device he’d planted on the Jedi investigator gave him access to her location, but it provided no audio. Communications between the outpost and the starship gave him enough data to access the starship’s communication. He observed as the ship droid contacted the Jedi investigator—there, he had her holofrequency. Malavai found her personal holocomm more difficult to remotely slice, but in twenty minutes, the task was finished and his connection was secure. He expected the audio feed to provide more information on whatever she was doing in the factory.

The yellow dot blinked steadily on his viewscreen. She had no idea that he was shadowing her every step, and that her investigation was being quietly dismantled by Baras and his apprentice.

Malavai realized the communications from the crater outpost had abruptly fallen quiet. Their communications went silent, opening a quiet void in a region that overflowed with conflicting transmissions. He reconnected to the outpost’s communications channel and found … silence. There were no screams, no pleas for reinforcements, not a single alert. An outpost filled with droids and soldiers went dark without a sound.

Ashanat must have arrived.

Baras contacted his office within thirty minutes. _“My apprentice has finished her assault on the cratered outpost,”_ he announced, and it was immediately apparent that his good mood had returned. Not even his mask could disguise his pleased tone. _“Everything is ready, Lieutenant. Tell my apprentice that she may now deal with her primary objective.”_ He clenched his fist, and for a moment, the holoprojection flickered dangerously. _“She will assault the Balmorran Arms Factory and annihilate everyone within its walls.”_

* * *

Malavai was almost finished with his preparations for the assault when Ashanat and Vette returned to his office. He rose from his chair and bowed to the apprentice, assessing her condition as he straightened. Her long braid was frayed as it hung down her back, fresh dirt visible on the soles of her black boots. She looked pleased with herself. It was hard not to let her palpable triumph affect him. “Welcome back, my lord.”

“Thank you.” Her golden eyes lingered on him curiously. “Tell me something, Lieutenant.”

“Anything, my lord.”

“How do you tolerate the interminable days on this planet?”

Malavai found the question to be rather personal, but she was not the first to struggle with the forty-seven-hour days on Balmorra. Once it had affected him badly in the immediate aftermath of his court-martial and transfer. “We do what we must for the Empire,” he answered evenly. “I suspect you will not have to endure Balmorra for much longer. Darth Baras is pleased with your success. He has informed me it is now time to turn your attention to your primary objective.”

Ashanat scoffed. “I have never failed my master, nor do I intend to.”

Malavai had never known Baras to trust _anyone_ , but he was beginning to understand his unfailing confidence in his apprentice. She was … remarkable. “I must be honest,” he confessed. “I calculated the likelihood of your success at the outpost as nearly negligible. Your victory was highly improbable. But now I understand the error in my calculations: I only considered the capabilities of a typical Sith in my assessment. You are … not a typical Sith. I will adjust future calculations to account for your unprecedented abilities.”

She quirked one of her brow-stalks in surprise. “You were running calculations on me, were you?”

Malavai thought her tone sounded oddly flattered. “It’s standard procedure to calculate the chances of a mission’s success. I’m not too proud to acknowledge when I’m mistaken,” he explained. “Darth Baras awaits your contact. My barracks and holocommunicator are yours. You will find the line is secure, and my quarters are more private than the office. And there is … a medpac. For your personal use.”

It was a careful admission, and one that made her stiffen and scowl. “I don’t need—”

“You do, my lord,” Vette interrupted. She looked reassuringly at Malavai as though she were doing him a favor. “Don’t worry, she listens to me. Knock before you enter.”

“I don’t see—” Malavai cut himself off as the full weight of her words struck him. His cheeks burned with embarrassment. “… Of course.”

Vette snickered as she led Ashanat into his quarters. Malavai ignored her. He still had work to do, anyway.


End file.
